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<title>fuzzy socks &amp; a book by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073939">fuzzy socks &amp; a book</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker'>pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fictober 2020 [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:33:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Snow always teases me when I wear these socks, but they’re soft, and warm, and nice. They run up well past my ankle, about mid-calf, and they’re sherpa-lined so they’re especially insulated and soft. </p>
<p>Mordelia picked them out when she was around six or seven, Daphne was just properly tickled by them and put them into my stocking that Christmas. Several years later I’m still wearing them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fictober 2020 [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949911</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>fuzzy socks &amp; a book</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>day 17: fuzzy socks &amp; a book</p>
<p>i wasn't going to write this, but then i couldn't resist i love writing small moments between these boys too much</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>BAZ</strong>
</p>
<p>Snow always teases me when I wear these socks, but they’re soft, and warm, and <em>nice</em>. They run up well past my ankle, about mid-calf, and they’re sherpa-lined so they’re especially insulated and soft. They also have two little vampire teeth at the top, and two little leathery black wings that stick out from the ankles.</p>
<p>Mordelia picked them out when she was around six or seven, Daphne was just properly tickled by them and put them into my stocking that Christmas. Several years later I’m still wearing them.</p>
<p>They’re <em>nice</em>.</p>
<p>Snow still laughs when he sees them. And I <em>ignore </em>him and curl up with my book.</p>
<p>“Do they know?” Snow asks after a few moments. I glance at him, raising a brow in question. “Your siblings. Do they know? About… y’know?”</p>
<p>He curls his upper lip back, baring his teeth. His approximation of a vampire impression. I roll my eyes.</p>
<p>“Mordelia didn’t at the time,” I answer him. “Well, at least not entirely. They know something happened, that I have a <em>condition</em>, but my parents didn’t think it wise to go around telling mouthy toddlers they’ve a vampire in the family.” I look at him from the corner of my eye again. “And children are awfully bad at keeping things like that to themselves, as we both know.”</p>
<p>“Hey!” He kicks a foot out, hitting my knee, as he laughs. “That was different, I thought you were going to kill me, ‘course I was going to tell everyone. Also didn’t know I was right, did I?”</p>
<p>I roll my eyes again, fondly this time. (Who am I kidding? It’s always fond.)</p>
<p>We’ve talked about that, quite a bit actually. When we were enemies. The things we used to say and do to each other, and how much time we wasted being rivals when we could’ve been doing <em>this</em>. Or even just being <em>civil</em>.</p>
<p>But that’s all part of our story. We’ve got an odd story, for sure, but I’m not sure I’d want it any other way. (Maybe a little less trauma on both our ends in an ideal world, but those were the grounds that built us. And we’re both working on accepting it every day.)</p>
<p>I return to my book and after a few minutes Snow stretches out over the sofa, laying his head against my leg. I absently run my fingers through his hair, twisting his curls between my fingers.</p>
<p>I feel him toying with one of the wings on my sock. I’ve half a mind to tell him to stop, but then I realize I don’t truly mind. I like it, like him touching me and taking the piss over this silly pair of socks.</p>
<p>We just wouldn’t be <em>us </em>without that.</p>
<p>So I let Snow tease me when I wear these socks. And sometimes I slip them on just so he can.</p>
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